


grounded

by EastOfEll



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/F, the one where their names are on their body
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 07:32:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11985138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EastOfEll/pseuds/EastOfEll
Summary: Lena doesn't know what's worse: having a man’s name on her arm, or having no name at all.soulmate au





	grounded

**Author's Note:**

> this is hayley from haulet from redkrypto's fault

Lena is born with her soulmate’s name scrawled on her arm. 

 

_ Jay _ . 

 

And it's okay. She wears long sleeves, even in the summer months, and Lex calls her lucky, because it means her soulmate is older than her, and she doesn't have to wait to know his name. They appear somewhere on your body, he explains, either when your soulmate is born, or you're born. 

 

Wherever Lex’s name is, Lena thinks, it's not anywhere she can see it. 

  
  


When Lena is seven, she looks at the handwriting that's been on her arm for as long as she can remember, and she wonders why it's messy. She doesn't  _ like  _ that it's messy. The girl that sits next to her in class, Annabelle, has neat handwriting, and Lena wishes her soulmate had neat writing like Annabelle. 

  
  


When Lena is ten, she decides she hates the name Jay. It's short, its meaning is only derived from some dumb bird, and it makes Lena’s stomach churn in a way that she can't explain. She wonders if it's just nerves; all the girls in her class gush about meeting their soulmate, yet names are usually kept private. Maybe it's like, how, when Lena walks up to the board to write the math equation given, she feels anxious and her guts feel like they're in the middle of a dryer rotation, but by the time she's been praised for the correct answer, she feels proud of herself, and the blush is almost gone by the time she walks back to her seat. In the end, it feels good. 

  
  


When Lena is twelve, the impulsive side of her googles if Jay can be a girl's name. She barely gets through reading “Jay [jay] as a girls' name (also used more regularly as boys' name Jay) is of Latin origin―” before she guiltily clicks out of the window and sits, staring at the keyboard, listening to the whir of the monitor as if it's berating her on what she's done. 

 

She deletes her Internet history and leaves the room. 

  
  


_ Lesbian.  _ How can a simple word feel so wrong and dirty but also  _ right  _ at the same time?

 

Lena is thirteen, and there's many things she knows about herself: She knows she is her father’s bastard; Lillian has never hidden that from her, and her father is away on business too often to know it's never been kept a secret. She knows that, if Lillian had had her way, Lena would not be named Lena. Lena would be named something that doesn't start with the letter L― and sometimes, Lena wishes Lillian had done it. 

 

It just seems right that Lena would find comfort in another L word that will only ever give her family grief. 

 

(And it's not fair, Lena thinks, about how Jay is, most of the time, a boy’s name. Because it causes Lena to hope, and to pray, that she gets one of the few that's a girl.)

  
  


When Lena is seventeen, Lex tries to kill a ton of people and is sent to prison. 

 

She hadn't seen her entire family for the six months beforehand, having been in boarding school. She's in the top of her class, one of the most popular girls in her grade, and always has an excuse as to why she can't go home for break. Instead, Lex would come up and they'd spend a weekend together. 

 

What's Lillian going to do― demand she come home for the holidays? Lena knows she doesn't care enough. 

 

Lex is the one person who made her feel at home. He was the one who made her understand that home wasn’t simply a place, but the people in it, that makes it so irreplaceable. When Lillian made her feel like she wasn't enough, Lex would saunter into her room, or call her, and make her feel like she was  _ more  _ than enough. 

 

It makes sense, then, that they cancelled out, and Lena never really felt more than decent. 

 

After Lex’s imprisonment, Lena spirals down into a depression so deep she almost doesn't realize the name on her arm has disappeared. When she does― notice that the name that's been tattooed onto her since the day she was born is now a patch of bare skin, that is― is gone, Lena wonders,  _ did my soulmate die _ ? Lena doesn't know what's worse: having a man’s name on her arm, or having no name at all. 

 

And then she realizes. 

 

Lex’s body count was 14.

 

14 people died because of her brother. 

 

And it takes her months to gather the information discreetly, as a homicidal maniac’s younger sister looking into the case doesn't exactly look good on paper, but none of them,  _ none  _ of them seem to be named Jay. 

  
  


When Lena is nineteen, she gets a new name on her arm, in the exact same spot as her old one, but in handwriting a lot neater. 

 

_ Kara.  _

 

_ Well, at least this one’s a woman,  _ she thinks, but she can't help but feel sorry for someone who'll have her name on their own arm. 

 

And does this mean her soulmate is almost two decades younger than her? Someone young enough to be her  _ child _ ?

 

She can't take it any longer. She wears foundation on the name when she's in public, and she puts a leather cuff on it when she's in private. She's  thought for two years that she wouldn't have a soulmate, wouldn't fall in love, and she's grown used to it. In fact, she  _ likes  _ it, she  _ likes  _ having nothing tying her down. 

  
  


When Lena is twenty-four, she actually  _ meets  _ the girl. 

 

Not a five year old, like she had thought, but a reporter for CatCo. As the blonde fiddles with her glasses and introduces herself, Lena can feel her feet touch the ground. 

 

Because Kara is different. Kara sees past her last name, Kara eats all the healthy food Lena likes, even when Lena insists they can go somewhere else, Kara sits on her white couch that she had specifically chosen to be uncomfortable so guests wouldn't want to stay and interrogate her for too long and actually makes it feel like one of those custom-made mattresses that cost thousands of dollars. Kara talks with her hands and eats like it's always the first meal she's had in days when Lena knows it's at  _ least  _ the third and Kara has something behind those blue eyes that tell of a dark past, and Lena wants to ask her the secret to it all, the secret to being so incredibly optimistic when all life throws at you is curveballs and dead soulmates and a mother who died giving birth to you and the woman raising you who wishes you had died right along beside her― Lena wants to ask how Kara can come into her office almost every day wearing a bright cardigan and a smile even brighter and act like everything's okay when it's  _ not _ . 

 

Lena can almost feel the weight radiating off of Kara’s shoulders; it's easy to recognize someone who bears a burden when you bare one yourself. Or, in Lena’s case, several. 

 

It seems like too soon but also  _ finally  _ when they're eating takeout in Lena’s office for what seems like the umpteenth time one evening, and Lena doesn't know exactly how it started but at some point Kara starts kissing her and Lena feels Kara’s fingers threading through her hair, swiftly taking it out from its ponytail, and Lena bites down on Kara’s bottom lip, and Kara actually  _ moans _ ―

 

before Kara stops, freezes, cuts herself off, and leaps off Lena, her clothes slightly disheveled and a blush painting her cheeks. 

 

“Shit, Lena, I’m so sorry.” Lena doesn't think she's ever heard Kara curse before, and she can't help but laugh. 

 

“Kara, I wasn't exactly complaining.”

 

Kara worries the lip Lena had been worrying herself only a mere minute ago. “I know, but there's something I need to tell you.”

 

“Kara…” Lena runs a hand through her hair, trying to make it seem more presentable, like it wasn't just tugged out of its updo. “I know you're Supergirl.”

 

Kara blanches. “What? Really?”

 

“Glasses, a ponytail, and bad posture aren’t exactly a good disguise.”

 

“Alex said the same thing when her own soulmate figured it out,” Kara sighs, but then she continues. “That's not what I wanted to tell you, though.”

 

“What, then?” Lena asks. 

 

“Krypton… it was a lot different from Earth, especially when it came to societal differences.” Kara tucks a loose piece of hair behind her ear, and pushes up her glasses. “Like, we didn't really have the  _ physical  _ concept of soulmates. We had the Matrix, which basically gave you the name of the person you were more compatible with genetically. And I guess that can count as soulmates― Clark found his. Lois has his name on her body even though Clark doesn't have anything on his.”

 

“Clark,” Lena says. “Clark… is Superman.”

 

“Oh,” Kara says, “yes. Don’t tell anyone, I guess? But… um… Another thing, though, is that gender wasn't as fine lined as it is here. I wore my hair long, and wore stereotypically feminine things, but…” Kara huffs. “I was still expected to become man of the house, but it was  _ okay  _ for me to do what I did, you know? And then my planet exploded before my own eyes and I got stuck in space for over twenty years and when I crashed to Earth, the baby cousin I was supposed to protect had become a superhero, our sacred house crest on his chest paraded around like a letter from a completely different language.” She gave a wet laugh. “And then I realized that, like, I wasn't just weird because I was literally an alien from a different planet, I was also weird because I was what you would call transgender.”

 

“Oh,” is all Lena says, and Kara crumbles. 

 

“I know you said you're a lesbian, and I know how some can feel about this whole thing. I’m always going to be some sort of non-op― it took Alex years to come up with a Kryptonian equivalent for estrogen, and then be able to inject that in me in an environment where needles will actually penetrate me― and having me under the knife is just too much of a risk. I just wanted to tell you because I didn't want you getting angry―”

 

“Whoa, whoa, Kara.” Lena takes Kara’s shaming shoulders and starts rubbing them. “I’m not mad at you. In fact, I’m really glad you told me, okay?”

 

“Everything's… good?”

 

“As good as it can get.” Lena smiles. “Though, if I’m going to be honest, it's probably best we don't continue what we started, considering the emotions in the room.”

 

Kara pouts. “Darn.”

 

They've been sitting in a comfortable silence for a few minutes when Lena says, “Kara, I need to ask you a question.”

 

“Is it offensive?” she asks. 

 

Lena’s eyebrows knit. “I don't know.”

 

“I’m just saying, I get asked really dumb questions a lot. I may not want to answer them.”

 

“I don't blame you,” Lena says. 

 

“Okay.” Kara turns, situating herself on the couch so that she's facing Lena. “Shoot.”

 

“I'll try, but you're bulletproof.” At Kara’s unamused stop-using-humor-to-deflect look, Lena puts her hands up in mock defeat. “Okay, okay. When… when I was born, I had a name on my arm. When I was seventeen, right after my brother had committed his crimes, the name disappeared. A few years later,” Lena, who had been wearing a button up shirt that day, quickly unbuttons the button at her wrist and rolls up her sleeve, “your name appeared.”

 

Kara’s breath stops as she examines her own name on Lena’s arm. “Wow.”

 

“That's not all, Kara.” Lena can feel tears prickling at the edge of her vision. “For so long, I’ve worried that Lex somehow murdered my soulmate. I’ve gone years with thinking that I was, in anyway, connected to my soulmate’s demise. But I’m beginning to realize something. I know it's insensitive. I know it could bring up some memories, and if you don't want to tell me, I understand. But, Kara, I need to know, and I really don't want to go the rest of my life without knowing.”

 

Kara looks up, and blue eyes lock onto green. 

 

“I want to ask what the name you were given at birth was. I won't… I won't ever  _ call  _ you it, god forbid, and I know it seems like an invasion of privacy―”

 

Kara puts her hand on Lena’s thigh. “It's fine. I trust you, and I get it.” She pauses. “I was called Jay-El.”

 

Lena feels a dam of emotions burst as she breaks down in tears, and Kara wraps her up in a hug.  _ This is what it feels like,  _ she realizes,  _ to get the damned math equation right. _

 

“I’m assuming… that was the name?”

 

“It was,” Lena says, and she laughs. “I remember being a teenager and knowing that sometimes, Jay could be a girl’s name, and I hoped so bad mine would be.”

 

Kara hums. “Well, it's a pretty bad girl’s name, in my opinion, which is why I changed it.”

 

Lena leans into Kara, wiping her eyes. “Don't worry, I like Kara better.”

 

She can feel Kara’s beam above her, the sunshine after her rain. 

 

After a few moments, Kara says, “So, now that we've unofficially decided to be honest tonight, can I say something else?”

 

“What is it?” Lena asks, looking up. 

 

“You really need to get a new couch.”


End file.
